


Matters of the Heart

by showmaster64x



Series: What happens on Bahryn... [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: M/M, Mpreg, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-08-01 19:52:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16290713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/showmaster64x/pseuds/showmaster64x
Summary: PREQUEL to my other story, Recompense. MPREG. Zeb woos newly minted member of the Rebel Alliance, Alexsandr Kallus, with unintended, but not unwelcome consequences.





	Matters of the Heart

A/N: WARNING! This story is mpreg, so if that's not your thing, then you're not the audience I'm looking for. Move along.

 

This is a PREQUEL to my other kalluzeb story _Recompense_. You don't have to read _Recompense_ for this to make sense, but I would still probably recommend reading them in the order I wrote them.

 

The premise for these kalluzeb stories was developed before the final season of Rebels aired. So both this story and _Recompense_ are AU's that take place after Kallus joins the rebels and before the events of Rogue One, where everyone is still alive and fighting the Empire like usual.

 

Matters of the Heart

 

.o.o.o.o.o.

 

The jungle insects chirped, reveling in the sweltering heat. Sunlight filtered down in dappled patches from the canopy of foliage above and Zeb blinked lazily as he lounged in the cooler dirt at the base of a large, twisting tree. The jungles of Yavin IV were teeming with life both large and small and these old ruins were their home. They were Zeb's retreat from the chaos of the base.

 

“So this is where you've been hiding,” commented a low, drawling voice.

 

Kallus was approaching, parting the low-hanging vines blocking his way. He must have been feeling the heat as much as Zeb was, for he had on fewer items of clothing than Zeb had ever seen him in- only a pair of cargo shorts and a thin, sleeveless shirt that left the substantial muscles of his arms and chest on display. The sheen of sweat glistened upon his exposed skin, surely from the effort it would have taken to hike all the way up here. Zeb licked his lips, suddenly finding that he was thirsty.

 

Kallus was a handsome human, and from what Zeb understood about the species, he was very much in his prime. It puzzled the Lasat as to why the former Imperial was always seeking out his company when there were plenty of female humans on base. Surely a man like Kallus would desire the company of a mate in his free time more than he would desire... a friend.

 

Because that is what Zeb was to him. And that was all Zeb was.

 

He could never admit to the man that all of the qualities that made Kallus an attractive human male would have made him a beautiful female Lasat. He imagined that sort of compliment might not go over so well.

 

He had the perfect build. Large and bulky for a human, but as a Lasat, he would have been considered quite delicate. In any case, he fit perfectly in Zeb's arms. Bahryn was proof of that. And the way he so meticulously groomed his facial hair, it was the same sort of preening Zeb remembered many of his female peers to engage in. Even the style that Kallus wore his facial hair was not all that different than the style kept by some of the hairier Lasat women he'd known.

 

The hair itself- gold and softer than it had any right to be. Zeb found himself wanting to pet it, wanting to nuzzle his face against it and breathe in that sweet, human scent that he'd become so accustomed to over the years.

 

“I thought perhaps we could have a match or two,” Kallus was saying, a background noise that Zeb only just became aware of, “No one here puts up much of a fight aside from the Jedi, and well, I like to think they cheat.” He took hold of the bowriffle strapped to his back.

 

Zeb raked his eyes over the man again, admiring the tanned skin, the hard, hazel eyes, the strong, warrior stance that had been taken up. Those muscular thighs would look good wrapped around his own hips. Zeb growled his approval before he realized what he was doing. He transformed the sound midway into something resembling an irritated scoff.

 

“'s too damn hot, Kal.”

 

“This is nothing. I attended basic on Cratan IX. Temperatures midday were enough to boil water on the ground.”

 

“Good for you,” Zeb grunted, turning onto his side in the shade so that his back was to the ex-Imperial. His mind supplied images for him... a much younger Kallus on a vague, desert planet, trekking through the sands with gear on his back and a blaster riffle in his hands... sweat pouring down his face as he panted prettily, muscles heaving under a tight uniform.

 

Karabast! What was wrong with him?

 

If Kallus was at all offended by Zeb's response he didn't show it. He sat down near Zeb so that they were sharing the shade. He seemed oblivious to the fact that Zeb would prefer to be left in peace at this moment. If only he were alone... he would not be so tempted.

 

“Quite the picturesque view from up here,” the blonde man commented, gazing down upon the temple hidden in the valley below. “It almost reminds me of-”

 

“Lasan,” Zeb said, cutting him off. Kallus turned to him suddenly, now regarding him with a bit of caution, as if sensing Zeb's strange mood.

 

“I was going to say Rhodia or Onderon, but I suppose the temples aren't unlike what might've been found on Lasan.” He stood again, taking the hint with such grace. “Well Garazeb, if you don't wish to spar with me and you don't wish my company, then I see no reason to disturb you further.”

 

Zeb threw out his hand and caught the other man's wrist. Kallus twisted his arm sharply in reaction but stopped short of breaking the hold.

 

“What do you want from me?” Zeb growled. Kallus studied him out of the corner of his eye, considering. “Most humans find me unpleasant to be around for one reason or another, but you...”

 

“Perhaps no one thus far has understood you the way I do. Lasats are my specialty, in case you have forgotten.”

 

“Yeah, the massacre did slip my mind for a moment. Silly me.”

 

“My advanced knowledge of your species' culture was the reason I was put in charge of the ground operations in the first place,” Kallus continued, voice becoming stiff as he realized he was soon to go on the defensive. “What is this about... all of a sudden?”

 

“Is Lasan the reason you hang around me? Is this supposed to be some sort of apology?” Zeb demanded to know. Kallus drew himself up to full height, clearly affronted.

 

“No. I will not apologize for doing my duty as a soldier,” Kallus refused, his expression becoming hard. “Perhaps if I could go back in time, with all of the knowledge I have now, I would do things differently. You can be satisfied with that, Garazeb.” Zeb growled in response, his sharp nails digging into the soft skin on the inside of Kallus' wrist.

 

“I wont be satisfied until I've mounted you,” the words slipped out before Zeb could stop them, a challenging, lewd thing to say. Karabast, he was an idiot! He could have just let the man walk away and tomorrow things would have returned to the way they always were.

 

Kallus stood there with his mouth slightly parted as he took in the absurd statement. No, not a statement. It was as good as a proposition. As the silence dragged, Zeb felt an increasing need to further explain his stupid outburst.

 

“I...” he began, then sighed, finally retracting his claws and releasing the hold he had on the other man, “Look. All of this attention you're giving me, its confusing, alright? People generally leave me alone. They don't come to chat or spar.”

 

Kallus closed his mouth, brow relaxing and facial expression transforming into something softer, something resembling the time Zeb had handed him the meteorite on Bahryn.

 

“I do believe I understand the problem now,” the ex-Imperial acknowledged quietly, now absently rubbing the wrist that Zeb had just released. It wasn't bleeding, but there were marks clearly visible, and it made the Lasat's heart beat faster.

 

“Yeah, well-” Zeb continued, and he had already formulated something biting and sarcastic to take away the sting of the rejection.

 

“-And I would not be averse to assisting you with it.”

 

The retort died in Zeb's throat.

 

Seconds ticked by. Overhead, a few tropical birds squawked, punctuating the silence. The Lasat became aware once again of just how isolated this place was. And he was here... with Kallus.

 

The human seemed to have gleaned all the information that he needed to from that still moment. He walked back to Zeb, standing just in front of him and looking down on where he was still reclined against the tree. One hand rested casually on his hip and his head was slightly cocked to one side while he stood, waiting.

 

“You know,” Kallus purred into the heavy silence between them, “As cadets, our drill sergeant- an extremely crude man- used to say to us, 'Lads, if it weren't for the Empire, you'd all be slaves in an outer rim brothel, choking on purple, xeno cock.'” The human was smirking now, “I can't help but think-”

 

Zeb grabbed him suddenly, snatching him by his damp shirt and pulling the proud soldier down on top of him. Kallus flailed for a moment before he was able to right himself, finding that he was straddled atop Zeb's thighs. Zeb gave him no chance to counter attack. His mouth found the agent's in a renewed assault, lips scouting, dominating, finding and penetrating all defenses. Kallus' hand was upon Zeb's forearm and it slip upwards, ruffling the fur the wrong way until it came to grip Zeb's thick bicep.

 

Zeb responded by crushing the other man to his chest, nuzzling into that exposed neck and shoulder area and inhaling deeply. The human was sweaty, musky, and that smell mingled with Zeb's own, overpowering scent. Kallus gasped softly in welcome surprise, tentatively allowing the Lasat more access as sharp teeth grazed his skin.

 

Zeb was already undulating his hips, pressing his aching arousal up against the blonde man in his arms, growling while he did so. Kallus' face had developed a light flush, easily visible in the gold of the late afternoon sun.

 

“Karabast! Have you any idea how long I've waited to do this?”

 

“Bahryn?” Kallus guessed, breathless.

 

“Yeah,” Zeb replied. There was no point trying to deny it. Even before their uneasy truce, Zeb had found himself lying awake at night, hot with anger and passion for the Imperial who could safely become the center of his hatred and the scapegoat for all of his problems. Deep in the filthy parts of his mind-parts whose fantasies never saw the light of day- he'd longed to fuck the insufferable agent until the conceited smirk was replaced with a grimace of agony, until he begged for mercy and admitted to the evils of the regime he served.

 

The anger and the hatred had long since cooled. The passion refused to dissipate. He might see his fantasies fulfilled regardless.

 

They tussled upon the forest floor until sweat glistened upon Kallus' brow and Zeb's fur was damp. Dirt was smeared upon Kallus' face and leaves were sticking in his hair. The ex-imperial did not seem to mind, however, as he'd shoved his cargo shorts down and was stroking his straining erection. Small and pink compared to Zeb's own, but already wet with his passion at the tip. The human stared heatedly up at Zeb, who was upon his hands and knees above the other man. He growled approvingly.

 

“Well?” Kallus demanded after some time, voice a drawl punctuated with breathy pants, “Is it just as purple as the rest of you? I'd like to do my sergeant proud, you see.”

 

Zeb's hand went to the fastenings on his trousers.

 

“Be careful what you wish for, Agent.”

 

.o.o.o.o.o.

 

“We can't keep doing this, Garazeb.” Kallus informed him after they lay tangled in one another, panting and covered in perspiration. They were ensconced in Zeb's dark, windowless quarters within the Yavin base, Zeb's room being ideal for clandestine encounters, as he had no bunkmates. The Lasat was fresh off another mission and Kallus had been awaiting his return most eagerly, at least in Zeb's own imagination.

 

The Lasat had his face buried in the human's neck, breathing in Kallus' unique scent. There was something strange about it lately. Why did it remind him of his sister, of all things? He thought of Elira, kneeling in her garden on Lasan while her kids played in the grass nearby.

 

“Why is that?” Zeb asked in a low voice, finally deciding to return to reality and acknowledge what Kallus had just spoken.

 

“I never meant it to turn into this. It was supposed to be a one-time deal. We have a job to do. This, whatever it is between us... is a dangerous distraction.”

 

“Job? What job are we doing?” Zeb scoffed, rolling off of the other man and settling beside him in the small cot, “Causing mayhem wherever we go? Throwing the Empire into disarray? It's really all we are capable of. Sometimes I can't believe they expect anything more.”

 

Kallus was shocked into silence. Zeb could feel how badly he had just wounded him, however unintentional. It was the truth. Zeb had never really signed on for anything more when he'd first set foot on the Ghost. Sometimes he resented how all of it had escalated. He longed for the simpler times.

 

But he'd said other things to Kallus, on Bahryn, he'd had to. To convince the man to swap allegiances on that ice moon he'd really had to sell his side. Of course it made sense that Kallus would have more heart for this than Zeb did, he'd always been a bit of a zealot.

 

“You really have no hope for your own cause?” Kallus asked, almost a whisper.

 

“No. It's not that,” Zeb scowled, frustrated that he was unable to convey his feelings properly. He took a breath,“Its just... maybe there's an even better cause I should be devoting my life to. I'm at an age where I ought to finally get it right.”

 

“What greater cause is there than democracy and freedom?” Kallus said derisively. And Zeb found that it was his own turn to feel dejected. How stupid and naive of him to think Kallus would understand. The man was brilliant, really, but only when it came to war and philosophy and other such complex ideas. There was a Lasat word for someone like Kallus, someone who was blind to matters of the heart.

 

“Forget it,” Zeb growled, unwilling to call him out on this. He'd only make himself appear weak in the other man's eyes.

 

“I came here to help stage a rebellion, Garazeb, not to waste my time screwing around with you.” Oh, it was to get even more heated, then? That was a fight picking statement right there. Lousy, ungrateful, insensitive, Imp.

 

“Screwing around? That's all this is?” Zeb asked, just to clarify. He turned his burning gaze on the human, “Agent Kallus, why are you here?” Kallus laid there with his mouth open for a moment, thrown by the question. Confused.

 

“I told you, Garazeb-”

 

“Why did you come here in the first place?” Zeb thundered, cutting him off and unconcerned that his voice might be heard through the walls. “If the rebellion is so important to you, why didn't you jump ship the first chance you got?”

 

Kallus sat up abruptly, a wild, hurt look in his eyes.

 

“I can't believe you of all people doubts my sincerity,” he hissed, face becoming that blank, Imperial mask of the old days. He got up and gathered his clothing from where it was strewn about upon the floor, yanking on his cargo pants and boots.

 

“Running away?” Zeb exclaimed in mock surprise, “No! Not, the loyal Agent Kallus, best and brightest of the ISB!”

 

“Goodnight, Garazeb.” Kallus said from where he now stood outside the room, pants unzipped, boots unlaced, and voice frostier than Bahryn. He jabbed the release and his murderous face was soon hidden beyond the door.

 

He had left the meteorite behind. Zeb wondered if that was intentional. After all, Kallus had kept that damn thing with him since Bahryn. In a burst of anger, Zeb picked it up and threw it against the door. It bounced off and rolled back toward his feet, undamaged and still glowing.

 

“Karabast.”

 

.o.o.o.o.o.

 

It was a calm night. Zeb had just returned from an assignment with Hera. She had left the hangar long ago, but not before instructing Zeb to do a full diagnostic on the Ghost. There was something off, that was certain. The hyperspace transitions shouldn't be preempted by lurches and isolated power failures. Chopper had been his signature, unhelpful self in this endeavor, and so now Garazeb was working alone, in the dark, with only backlit screens glowing in the engine room while he tinkered.

 

“So,” a voice drawled from the room's entrance, “You came back.” Zeb looked up and though it was dark, he knew that silhouette quite well by now. Kallus was leaning against the door frame, looking relaxed... nonchalant. But the odd greeting belied some sort of inner tension. Zeb wondered if the Ghost wasn't the only one in a mood.

 

“Why wouldn't I?” Zeb said, more than a little confused.

 

“You skipped the debriefing.”

 

“Hera took care of it. It was her mission.”

 

“No one saw you leave the Ghost.”

 

“What is this about? I'm not reporting to you now, am I?”

 

“No, I guess not,” Kallus said bitterly. Zeb looked up, finally turning his attention away from the tools and screens to observe the other man. The ex-imperial had his arms crossed. His eyes refused to meet Zeb's, but from the blue light of the screens the Lasat could see that they were intense and unsettled.

 

“You thought something happened to me,” Zeb said, finally putting it together. Did that mean that Kallus... cared? Was this the concession he'd been waiting for? They'd hardly spoken since that disagreement, only going through the necessary motions while forced to endure the other's company for work reasons. But even before the fight, they'd really only been messing around like horny sub-adults. Perhaps Zeb had been the fool to even think it could progress to anything deeper.

 

“There's a war out there, Garazeb,” The blonde man said, quietly, almost resentfully. Zeb knew he was frustrated that high command kept him here on base, and whether this was due to a lack of trust, or a true need of his intel, was difficult to say. However, Zeb could see that it was slowly starting to wear at him. Was Kallus simply jealous?

 

“Don't worry, Kal. So long as I have you waiting for me here, I'll always come home,” He took the chance anyway, hoping it was the right thing to say. Kallus didn't give him much of a response, unfortunately. He closed his eyes for a moment, but remained silent. Zeb's attention was broken by the beeping of one of the control panels. He dropped his tools and shuffled over to it and when he next looked over to the door, Kallus was gone.

 

.o.o.o.o.o.

 

Zeb finally returned to his quarters some hours later. Lately, he preferred to stay on the Ghost, but tonight he needed the running water. He flicked on the lights and squeezed himself into the human shower set into the corner of the room. Having fur meant that this showering business was a right pain, but he also had discovered that people tended to speak to him more if he used the damn thing once in a while. He lathered up in the disgusting human-scented soap and worked through the areas on his body where his clothing had left matted patches.

 

He shut off the water eventually, once he'd sulked in the spray for a while, reflecting on how much he hated the shower... and that he would have to subject himself to the awful food they served here on Yavin... and that someone had borrowed some of his tools and not returned them... and that Kanan still owed him some credits he could use right about now... and how this war was beginning to eat into his soul... and that there was something, or perhaps someone, missing in his life as of late.

 

He reached for the towel outside the curtain and groped for a moment before he realized he'd forgotten to set one out. Karabast, he'd shoved them all into the laundry chute, hadn't he?

 

A furious noise bubbled up in this throat and he thew open the flimsy curtain, tearing it off the rings accidentally. Before he could add that to his frustration, however, he realized there was someone else in his room.

 

“How did you get in here?” Zeb said, the initial tenseness fleeing from him abruptly when he looked upon Kallus' handsome face. “Thought I had the codes changed.”

 

“Intelligence has access to all of those things. I've acquired a few favors in the time I've been there,” came Kallus' lackluster response. He was sat on Zeb's bed, holding the yellow meteorite and staring into its faint, yellow glow. He looked to Zeb then, his eyes briefly admiring the nudeness of the creature stood before him before he dropped his gaze again. He just seemed so... defeated.

 

“I had a thought today,” Kallus began quietly. He set the meteorite back down upon the bedside stand where Zeb had still been keeping it. He then placed his elbows on his spread knees and intertwined his fingers, “Just a thought, but now it won't leave me alone. I have been working with an infiltration team. They departed today. A few of them were hardly more than children. What if their training wasn't good enough? What if my information was bad? I know exactly what awaits them should they fail. They will be taken apart by someone like I used to be.”

 

“All I want to do is be out there on the front lines, risking my life... atoning.” Kallus admitted, voice raising with his frustration. “Instead they keep me here, and every day I watch people leave and come back and leave and come back. So many of them never come back, Garazeb.” The human's eyes finally found his again.

 

_What if, someday, you don't come back_ , they seemed to say.

 

“I get it now, I think,” Kallus kept talking, “What it was you were trying to tell me before. Why am I here? To participate in the rebellion yes, but why did I leave the Empire?”

 

Zeb held his breath. Kallus let out a shaky laugh before he continued, a self depreciating laugh.

 

“You've always known and I never even thought about it until you forced me to. To answer your question, Zeb, the unspoken one, I suppose that yes, you do matter to me more than this rebellion, this war.”

 

“Karabast.” Zeb muttered, if only because he had been caught unprepared. Abandoning the idea of dressing himself, he sat on the small bed next to the other man, knowing he was going to leave a massive wet spot.

 

“You must think I'm such a fool," the human said.

 

He did. He used to, and it made him so angry at the time, but now it was bothering him to see Kallus so broken.

 

“You?” Zeb snorted, knowing he had to lighten the mood somehow, cheer the guy up, “Nah. You see, I'm the one that has all these dumb thoughts that maybe I oughtta never have recruited you in the first place. Maybe I should have just stolen you away and we coulda gone to live happily ever after on some planet full of sandy beaches. Tell me that ain't foolish.”

 

It worked. Kallus chuckled deep in his throat and Zeb thought it sounded rather like a purr. The air in the room felt heavy quite suddenly. Zeb placed his clawed hand atop Kallus', which was resting upon his sheets. The human opened his mouth, preparing to say something more, but Zeb silenced him with a kiss. These pheromones... Kallus was raw and vulnerable, displaying parts of himself that he never revealed in the company of anyone else, and it had ignited something within Zeb. He wanted to soothe and comfort, but he also wanted to lay claim like he had that first day in the jungle. Mostly, Zeb respected the human's pride as a male, and they satisfied each other with their hands and sometimes their mouths, but Kallus always left him wanting more.

 

Zeb's wet fur soon transferred its moisture to Kallus and to the sheets below them both. The flimsy frame groaned under their combined weight and the strength of their exertions. Kallus held tight to Zeb, allowing himself to be pleasured and then prepared for the inevitable intrusion that Zeb was dead-set on tonight.

 

“Garazeb,” the human gasped as the Lasat sheathed himself fully in the body beneath him. Zeb reflected how musical his own name sounded coming from Kallus' lips. There was wetness gathered in the corners of Kallus' eyes, an overflow of the emotions that Zeb had coaxed forth. Gentle rocking soon became rough pistoning, and Kallus' hands went to his own erection to tug in time with the thrusts. Zeb's teeth teased at the soft skin of Kallus' neck. There would be bruises on the both of them come morning, some that might lead to awkward questions for the human, but that was a problem to be dealt with at a later time.

 

A noise of pure, animalistic need erupted from Zeb's throat as he released his payload, and it was this that drove the other to completion as well.

 

They remained attached for some time in a post-coital haze, Zeb still clinging to the man beneath him, chests still heaving and hearts still beating at lightspeed, both either unwilling or unable to move. If the human was bothered by his weight, he didn't mention it. Zeb basked in their combined scents, taking pleasure in how they mingled in the stale air of his quarters. In this, he became hyper-aware of Kallus' essence, as well as that mysterious undertone within it. Again, it triggered a memory.

 

“ _Garazeb you ought to find more time visit us,”_ he remembered some of Elira's last words to him, the last time he'd seen her before the Empire had taken Lasan and her village had been razed. She'd stood outside her little house in the country as she waved him off, her youngest son standing beside her.

 

Garazeb froze, remembering a final detail concerning Elira, and the reason for that scent. He looked down upon the blonde human beneath him, who was staring back at him sleepily from the corner of his eye. No, it couldn't be, could it? But it was no secret that humans and Lasat were compatible mates. Indeed, it was that very reason that the Empire had wanted them exterminated, ever so testy about the idea of their gene-pool becoming contaminated.

 

Could it be that Kallus was actually...

 

“What's wrong?” the human mumbled, breaking the spell.

 

“Nothing,” Zeb answered, his voice hoarse, choked almost. He'd never thought about it before, never found a worthy mate, never even dared to hope after the massacre. He hadn't even mourned the loss of the opportunity because he'd never let himself dream of such a thing in the first place.

 

His chest felt tight and his whole body crawled with some unknown emotion. Since their first encounter, Zeb had been drawn to Kallus, and now... sometimes the man was the only thing that kept him going. Kallus had given him everything, even something he didn't know he wanted.

 

Zeb let his head drop until his forehead was pressed against Kallus' shoulder. He inhaled a shuddering breath and stayed like that for a moment. Zeb at least was certain that he felt more for this human than he'd felt for any Lasat and he wanted him in every way. He wanted all that Kallus could give him.

 

“I think I love you,” Zeb blurted stupidly.

 

“Is that so?” the blonde man replied sleepily, voice still constricted from Zeb's weight, “I wonder if you might change your mind once your head is cooled.” Zeb rolled off of him and onto his side, grabbing the human and pulling him into a possessive embrace.

 

“I suppose I care deeply for you as well, Garazeb.”

 

.o.o.o.o.o

 

Months came and went, and Zeb waited for Kallus to say something, but the human was proving quite stubborn, never acknowledging the secret he carried, even whilst alone with Zeb. Zeb wondered at first, if he simply did not know. Lasat cubs were born small, and with a Lasat's typical robust physique, it was often difficult to tell by looking if one was expecting. Only the scent could broadcast it to the world, and Kallus' had become perfectly identifiable in its promise.

 

But still, how could someone not notice such a thing happening to themself? It was impossible, Zeb decided.

 

One evening, he and Kallus were lying on Zeb's bed after a round of intense lovemaking. Zeb's fingers were tracing lazy circles onto the human's sweat-dampened skin. Eventually they settled on Kallus' abdomen. He imagined that he could feel a hardness that hadn't been there before. If he'd estimated correctly, then the time was rapidly approaching.

 

He'd been thinking for a while now that the reason Kallus had kept his silence was because he was uncertain if he'd wanted to bear Zeb's child. Zeb's ears fell and he pressed his face into his lover's neck. He'd been waiting patiently since his discovery, and with such excitement. Kallus was generally the type to see things to their end, and Zeb despaired at the thought that this might be the one thing he couldn't.

 

“You're leaving tomorrow aren't you?” Kallus said, oblivious to his inner turmoil.

 

“Yeah,” Zeb replied morosely. He wanted to be here, by Kallus' side.

 

“How long will you be gone?”

 

“Few days, I think. Probably less than a week. Won't take long. Its just a supply run.”

 

“Leave the droid with me. We need the information in his data banks concerning your encounter with Saw Gerrera.”

 

“Why?”

 

“You know I can't tell you that,” Kallus sighed, “High command is planning something big. Just make sure Hera leaves that piece of scrap behind.”

 

“I'll bring him up to you in the morning.”

 

.o.o.o.o.o.

 

“C'mon Chop. You'll make us all late,” Zeb growled as he wound through the maze-like corridors of the Massassi temple that housed the Intelligence division. The droid picked up its pace, but not without beeping something rude.

 

The doors opened for them upon reaching the set of rooms they were bound for. People scurried around with papers. There was a Bothan sitting at the nearest computer terminal. Several officers were standing around a holoprojector, listening to a communication from a woman Zeb recognized as the Alderaani princess. Kallus was there as well.

 

Zeb noticed that he was bent over the holoprojector's controls, one hand against the console, and the other pressed to his stomach.

 

“Indigestion, Captain?” Zeb heard General Draven ask Kallus in a quiet aside.

 

“It's this horrid caf you're serving up here, General. Makes me ill every morning,” Kallus replied tightly. He then spotted Zeb from across the room and signaled that he'd be with him shortly.

 

“Listen Chop, can you do me a favor?” Zeb said to the droid beside him.

 

“ _Certainly not,”_ the droid beeped.

 

“Well it's not really for me. Just... maybe keep on eye on Kallus while I'm gone, won't ya? I'm worried about him.”

 

“ _Is he diseased?”_

 

“Sort of. I guess. Make sure he gets to medical if you notice anything strange.”

 

“ _I suppose I'll have nothing better to do while I'm stuck here. We will discuss my payment upon your return.”_

 

“Yeah, we'll _discuss_ it,” Zeb finished darkly. The holoprojector was shut off and Kallus walked over to them. He directed Chopper to plug in to the terminal where the Bothan was sat.

 

“Can I speak to you outside for a moment?” Zeb asked once Kallus had turned hazel eyes to him. The blonde man glanced discreetly to the others in the room, but none of them were paying attention to the two of them.

 

“Certainly,” Kallus responded, leading the way out of the room.

 

Once in the hall, Zeb stole a kiss, snaking his arms around the shorter man, one around the small of his back and the other at his nape.

 

“Zeb!” Kallus whispered warningly, hands coming up to push against his chest, “Not here,”

 

Zeb couldn't explain it, but he got the feeling that a lot was going to happen during the few days he'd be gone.

 

“Good luck,” he said to the human. For whatever reason, it seemed appropriate.

 

“You too,” Kallus said once he had extracted himself and was righting his clothing and hair. He reached up to smooth Zeb's beard. “Come back, won't you?” Zeb captured the human's hand and held it for a moment.

 

“For you, always.”

 

.o.o.o.o.o.

 


End file.
